Words
by Little Blue Owl
Summary: Fakir was never adept at keeping calm.


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or plot of Princess Tutu.

Words

She wasn't sure how it started. But suddenly it all spiraled into a big deep pool and no matter how hard she tried, her wings wouldn't paddle her up. She was drowning.

"You can't help me! You can't do anything! You're a child, Ahiru! You haven't faced the things I have. I watched my parents be killed in front of me!"

Her voice was cracking with effort not to. Tears were close to her eyes, but she kept them back. "I never even had parents!"

"You're only fighting for my side, now. See, this is all you do, you can't even think for yourself! Why, of all people, did I have to get stuck with you?!"

She glared at him as the tears struggled at her eyes. They built up in a dam in front of her eyelid and finally, begrudgingly, forced their way out.

And she ran. She ran out of the door and slammed it shut, running as far as she could, pushing through people in town, out behind buildings, into the forests, just struggling to move. Her legs gave out after endless moments of hiding, and she fell to the ground mercilessly.

Blood pooled on her arms and knees as marks of the people and trees that had watched her here. She was bruising around her cheek so much that it hurt to cry, but the tears wouldn't stop.

Eventually she looked around, and with surprise found that she was completely alone. There wasn't even an odd forest bird waiting for her. Just a shallow blue pond and silence in the trees.

Ahiru sat back against the trees and let tears drip down her red face. They ran for a long time and the sky was turning dark before they stopped.

She tried to lift her legs, but they were numb. So she waited in vain and silence, and sat with her blood staining the grass. This wasn't unusual. She bruised easily.

Her arms fell back to her sides and she gave in to sorrow. She briefly wondered if Rue ever did this? Could Rue cry?

No, she was too pretty and lovely to cry. That would be it. Mytho would never make Rue cry. Mytho loved Rue.

For the first time, her thoughts drifted towards Fakir. Was he looking for her? Ahiru sat up and looked at the stars.

He probably wasn't looking for her. That wasn't like Fakir. He simply didn't love her like Mytho loved Rue. He didn't and he wouldn't ever.

But, if he was? She looked to the blackness around her and her eyes widened. If he was looking for her...

Ahiru got up and stumbled into a tree, and for a brief moment she realized that she didn't know where she was going. She just ran and tripped over her legs into trees and on the ground.

When she finally saw the glimpse of a building, she ran to the brick and to the street, lit by lanterns as a small amount of people ambled by.

She was running out of breath and lagging towards the house, on the other side of town when she collapsed into something.

Arms held her upright as lay, looking at the stars with exhaustion.

"Fakir?"

The young man gripped her tightly and pulled her into him. She held on as he wiped mud off her face and attempted to clear her elbow of its scratches.

She let herself into him and softly held his arm.

"I'm sorry, Faki-"

He cut her off with a whisper. "I'm not going to leave you, Ahiru, ever."

She fell into him and cried more, and he picked her up and carried her back to their little cottage on the outskirts of town.

Ahiru woke up with little memory of a bath but clean skin and patched up wounds. She was tightly tucked into Fakir's bed, and she heard a slight scratching sound from the next room, probably from Fakir, before drifting back to sleep.

In the morning she came out and heard more scratching. He had been writing all night probably, into the darkest hours of depression.

She quietly walked to the door and opened it slightly, wishing it not to creak. Ahiru watched Fakir blot down the silent words intensely.

As she walked back to her room, she imagined what he could have been writing about, and more specifically, if she could read it later. She loved his stories.

To her surprise, in her room there was a cup of hot tea and a note on her bedside table.

She tenderly picked up the note and read, "I'm sorry for yelling. I was thinking maybe we could go to the lake today if your wounds aren't bothering you too much."

She smiled softly and sat down, sipping the tea.

It wasn't completely easy living with a failed knight, but in the end, the happiness was worth the hardships.


End file.
